58 minutes


Communication is NOT my forte. I get around to saying how I feel eventually. Tonight it took roughly 58 minutes to tell my boyfriend I miss him. Of course, I took the long way to get there, starting off with who comes over more often etc. The fact is work has seriously affected my moods lately. Instead of coming home cheery, I come home dreary. And when I’m dreary, I’d rather sulk alone. See, my boyfriend is the bright beacon of positivity. I am a negative nancy. He’s right about one thing, there are a million excuses to not come over and hang out, none of which involve my love for him or his for me. Anyways, the bottom line is this, for the sake of all involved parties: state your business. I miss you does not equal I am needy. (Gosh, I got so much reprogramming to do.) Love means that someone let’s you take 58 minutes to say something. Love is knowing when to say nothing at all.   I’m going to unplug now.

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